Summary

“Well, why didn’t you tell him before he left?” Leo’s suggestion was entirely reasonable, and Phichit snorted at it.

“Right,” he deadpanned, “Because ‘Hey Yuuri, it’s fine if you lose, which is totally a possibility that’s on the table let me remind you, since if you do, your own personal lord and savior will be obligated by GPF tradition to show up at your hotel room after the medal ceremony to give you a sympathy fuck’ was a plan with zero downsides.”

Or the fic where Victor is thirsty, Yuuri is clueless, and neither one of them is prepared for the other.